


Protesting Natures

by LadyGueniver



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Consensual Sex, F/M, Misunderstandings, Romance, Secret Relationship, Smut, Virus, Vulcan Biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:15:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22515328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGueniver/pseuds/LadyGueniver
Summary: Time frame – Protesting Natures Universe, post ST: TMP.Dr. Chapel returns from a medical rescue mission with samples of a virus. While it is not life threatening, it is unpleasant. When one of the samples leaks, the Enterprise crew is infected. Mr. Spock begins to show odd symptoms, is it the virus or something else?
Relationships: Christine Chapel/Spock
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	1. Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This is the first story I wrote. It’s not my best, but – it’s part of a series of stories about Spock and Christine. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Paramount owns 'em lock, stock and barrel. I like to play with the characters. No one made any money on this. There are no peanuts, gluten, MSG or GMO ingredients. This involves scenes involving carnal relations between consenting adults outside the bonds of matrimony.

Chapter one - Welcome Home

The dizzying swirl of the transporter beam caught her and she felt a wash of relief. She was finally going home. It had been a long couple of months, and while it was a rare pleasure to be in charge of a medical mission, she looked forward to getting back to the regular grind.

The transporter room materialized around her and she stepped off the platform. He wasn't there, but she had known he would most likely be busy on the bridge. She tried her best not to feel disappointed.

"Welcome aboard Dr. Chapel."

"Thank you very much, I'm glad to be back." She turned to the orderlies that were standing nearby. "Faron, Powel, please take the stasis boxes straight to the lab. And try to avoid too much jostling. I'd hate to have to nurse you through the flu!" She chuckled. They smiled in response, yes ma'am-ing themselves out the door. The samples were safe enough. She'd go check on them after a shower.

God, a real shower with water and everything. What a sinfully luxurious thought. After two months in a perpetual sandstorm with only sonic showers once a week, she was going to enjoy this.

"Ensign, were there any problems with the transport? Any leakage from the samples?"

"No ma'am, transporter logs show no problems. Everything's in order. Dr. McCoy would like you to report to sickbay right away though."

"I'm sure he would Ensign, but for the moment, I'm heading to my quarters. I'll contact him from there. Right now, nothing short of a Class IV disaster is going to keep me from a shower."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll let him know."

"Thank you Ensign." She paused for a moment at the intercom on the wall. Perhaps it would be better to just contact the good doctor now. "Actually, it’s alright Ensign, I'll do it." She turned and leaned heavily against the wall "Chapel to McCoy"

"McCoy here, welcome back Chris. I expected to say hello in person. Now, I want you down here for a complete physical."

"Len, I'll be down as soon as I've had a real shower. I feel fine, and I've passed all the transporter's med scans. The transporter Tech tells me there was no problem with the transport of the samples and I've sent them the sickbay. You should be busy enough getting those settled in. I really need a shower. I promise I'll be there in an hour. Is that alright?"

"I could order you down here right now, Doctor."

"Yes, you could, Doctor." She smiled and crossed her arms, "But you won't because your sweet southern disposition would never allow you to stand between a lady and a shower."

She could hear his chuckling. "Alright, one hour."

\---

The sickbay door swished open noisily. The doctor turned from his terminal to face the orderlies. "There you are. I just spoke with Dr. Chapel. I expected you to be here 15 minutes ago."

"Sorry Doc, the turbolift had a minor malfunction. Mr. Scott's running a diagnostic on it now. The stasis field is fine, though."

"Uh-huh," the doctor scowled skeptically and quickly produced a med. scanner from his pocket. He scanned the samples then the two men then the boxes again. He snorted disgustedly. "Damn samples. Just an accident waiting to happen." He looked at them both, "You're fine, you can go."

"Hey, Doc, what's the big deal with this virus? I mean, haven't we all been vaccinated for just about everything?"

"Well son, that's a really good question. It seems we've got ourselves an influenza virus mutation that is resistant to traditional therapy. Now **I** think all our technological tinkering with viruses and vaccinations has mutated some damned thing. We've got ourselves some nasty bug that infected the miners on New Serephis. They'd received the same vaccinations we use on the Enterprise. That's why we're taking the samples back to Starfleet Medical. The good news is that it's not all that dangerous, at least not that we've discovered. Hopefully we can catalog the differences and modify the vaccinations that are in use and prevent anymore facility shutdowns like they had on New Serephis."

\---

Christine entered her quarters with an intense feeling of relief. It was good to be home. It took only second to peel off her uniform and grab a clean one. She headed straight for the shower, but a flashing red light on her terminal caught her eye. She had a personal message. She smiled and sat in the chair to play it.

"Christine, I regret that I was unable to greet you personally. My duty shift ends at 1730 hours, would you join me for dinner?" Her face warmed at the thought of seeing him again, touching him, holding him...she closed her eyes. Hmm, she felt like a teenager again.

It had been a long two months. Their relationship had blossomed in the last year and was at a very comfortable level for both of them. They maintained a level of professionalism during the day, but they spent a fair amount of their off time in one another's quarters. Each of them not wanting to attract any more attention than was absolutely necessary.

She looked forward to seeing him again. She needed a good workout and was sure he would indulge, her perhaps a round of Kzinti sparring in the gym.

She smiled and remembered their last match. He wore the black Starfleet issue workout uniform that seemed to have been designed with Spock in mind. He looked stunning. His Kzinti stick in hand, he had worked so hard to unbalance her. She had easily pinned him twice before he finally succeeded in bringing her to the mat.

Her memory swam with the sweet spicy scent of him pinned to the mat breathing heavily, eyes set with determination. She remembered brushing his cheek with her hand watching his eyes as he slowly yielded. She closed could almost feel the fiery kiss that came later when they were truly alone, a private retribution for the loss.

She sighed, opened her eyes and unclenched her uniform in her lap. The sooner she got cleaned up and finished with the doctor, the sooner she could show him just how much she had missed him.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

On the bridge of the Enterprise, the ship's First Officer was busily finishing the final reports regarding the mission to the New Serephis. The miners of New Serephis had been suffering an epidemic of a virus mutation of Influenza. It had brought the main station to a standstill. The aging environmental control systems that made the sand-swept planet livable had required repair and recalibration due to the long period of inattention. Supplies had to be replenished and security reports filed. Such isolated colonies often precluded standard Federation judicial systems. Passing starships were often called into such service. The reports had been unremarkable, but numerous.

Bridge crew went about their normal orbit departing tasks, each engrossed in his or her own activities. No one could know that the habitually impassive First Officer was distracted. By human standards, his work pace and quality were exemplary. But by his own Vulcan standard, he was performing adequately at best. He was quite distracted by the fact that Christine was now certainly on board and that it would still be another 2.61 hours before he would be able to see her.

Fully engaged in the final scientific analysis of the preliminary data that Dr. Chapel had transmitted regarding the influenza virus, a part of his mind drifted to the image of her. He contemplated his personal relationship with her. It had been so many years in coming, and now suddenly it was comfortable. He could not envision what his life would be without her.

Her insistence that it would be best to _take it slow_ had surprised him initially. After so many years of pursuit in their first tour together he had assumed that she would be the eager party. But her youthful infatuation had been replaced by a maturity that required personal privacy for herself and honored his own need for occasional solitude.

She had changed so much in the years he had known her. She had returned from medical school with a newfound confidence that he found highly appealing. She now served the Enterprise as a doctor and as head of the science department.

His mind gave pause. Was it not a Terran platitude that his Mother had suffered? _Find yourself a Doctor_ his grandmother had told her.

Curious, Christine was not unlike his mother in many ways. Yet when she had joined the crew she had seemed so young.

Indeed, by Vulcan standards she had been just a girl. Now she was a wonderfully beautiful and mature woman. Even her appearance had changed. Luscious dark locks now replaced her sunshine blonde hair, her girlish curves gave way to a strong well-muscled frame. She had proven herself his master in the Kzinti Kantianaz and was fast becoming adept at Dvun Kol'tor, a form of Vulcan meditative dance. She was quite simply a remarkable woman and he cared deeply for her.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Christine left her quarters feeling refreshed, new. She sent Spock a response to his invitation suggesting that they meet in her quarters. She wanted to spend the whole night with him in her bed, candles and incense. She planned it all while in the shower.

It was so good to be back on-board Enterprise even the familiar ship's air was delightful. It was homogenous, -filtered, some said stale. But at the moment, it was a wonderful reminder that she was home and not on that cold sand dune planet. She turned the corner and headed to the turbolift.

She smiled at the thought of dinner with Spock and hoped not to appear to be beaming with joy lest someone question her. She wasn't ready to reveal their liaison. She wanted to see where they were going before she submitted to the scrutiny of her friends. Given her history and the speed of a starship's rumor mill she preferred to maintain their privacy.

The sickbay doors slid open obediently and she marched silently in. She headed to the exam room and came smartly to attention.

"Dr. Chapel reporting as ordered, Sir!" She tried not to laugh as Dr. McCoy jumped up, startled from his terminal.

"For cryin' out loud Chris!" he exclaimed, then he laughed and stepped forward with open arms "Welcome home." He hugged her warmly then released her. "Right on time, hop on up on the table and we'll get started." He patted it and smiled.

She lay down obediently and relaxed while the Doctor began the exam. One of Dr. McCoy's own 'regulations', all returning duty personnel must submit to a complete physical. 'Better to be safe than sorry' the doctor often commented.

They chatted easily about the mission, the virus and the various therapies Christine had used to help the miners recover.

"I'd like to continue working on a treatment while we're en route to Starfleet Medical." She told him.

"Of course, I'll put you in charge of the ship board research. Just select your team, you can start tomorrow." He turned from the diagnostic readout and faced her with a smile "There, done. Now that wasn't too bad now was it?" He offered a hand up. "Well, that's about it. The only thing left is the fact that your ovulation inhibitor wore off while you were planet side."

"Yes," she grimaced "I know."

"You didn't have any problems did you?" His raised eyebrows and fatherly tone belied his concern.

"No, it just wasn't particularly well timed." She grimaced, "After 10 years, I'm a little out of practice at having my body produce those hormones on its own." She sighed and then smiled. "But to tell you the truth, I rather not take another inhibitor. Do you have any of those ovarian shunts?"

"Sure thing. Probably just as well. You should give your body a rest from the chemicals." He reached into a cabinet and pulled out a small box and a different scanner. "It's always a good idea to let nature work the way it was intended. Now just lie back, it'll be just a few more minutes."

She turned her attention to the selection of her team. By the time the doctor was finished she had decided on four of the medical staff, the new orderlies Kelly Faron and Greg Powell, Nurse Kyle and an intern German Azbel.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Suddenly he became aware of the fact that the duty shift had melted away. With only 10 minutes to prepare the pass-on report for the beta shift he submitted his final scientific report to the library computer for transmission to Starfleet with the Captain's mission log. His peripheral vision picked up the figure of the Captain approaching. He turned to face his smiling friend.

"Spock, how about you and I take that hand carved chess set the miners sent and put it through the paces? I can meet you in the rec room in an hour. What do ya' say? Care to take your chances? According to that trader on DS3 dilithium increases brain energy in humans. With an unfair advantage like that, I'd wager that I could beat you in 17 moves or less." His grin would have been infectious, had he been talking to any human member of his crew.

Spock was not immune to his friend's charm but he had other plans. He inclined his head slightly, not missing a beat.

"I believe the trader of whom you speak was misinterpreting a commonly held myth that certain energy storing crystals can enhance the electrical synaptic response in the brains of certain species of Terran animals, thus, presumably, enhancing judgment, memory and skill. This is not only an unsubstantiated claim it is compounded by the fact that the dilithium chess set while functionally flawless is created from damaged and flawed stones which have been found to be without energy storage capability." His eyes twinkled with humor at the exchange. "While I would, under other circumstances, be amenable to disproving your grandiose claim of enhanced ability I find that I am otherwise occupied this evening. Perhaps another time."

The Captain's shock registered plainly on his face. His First Officer had other plans? There was certainly no problem with that. Every crewmember was entitled to use his off-duty time as he chose. It was just unusual that Mr. Spock would turn down a chess match with the captain.

"Yes, another time Mr. Spock."

Spock inclined his head to the Captain easily and then turned to his arriving shift relief and proceeded to give his pass-on leaving the bewildered captain to his own thoughts.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Anticipation gnawed at her belly. She set the small table in her quarters for dinner. A small plate of Terran fruits sweet and juicy sat on the side. A large shallow bowl of savory Rigellian kasa root paste with pungent spicy oil drizzled on top was surrounded with a thinly sliced brown bread and vegetables. She had chosen the foods carefully cold finger foods that they both enjoyed. Of course, it is always a pleasure to eat with your fingers she thought wickedly.

He was always quite prompt and she knew he would be here momentarily. She surveyed the room. Everything was perfect. Candles burnt in the sleeping alcove. Soft Vulcan harp music played. She picked up her glass of wine and sipped trying to relax. She wanted to see him right now, not in a moment - right now.

The door chimed. Her heart skipped a beat, "Come."

He stood for a moment in the doorway captivated by the sight of her. She too was struck with the sight of him. He was positively breathtaking. He had dressed in civilian attire, something he seldom did. Soft black pants with a generous maroon tunic embroidered in Vulcan.

His dark eyes climbed slowly up her body drinking her in. When he finally met her gaze the look in his dark eyes brought the blood to her cheeks. He stepped into the room and from his sleeve he produced a single red rose.

"My research of Terran customs indicates that this is an appropriate gift upon the return of a cherished one." His voice rumbled deeply across the room.

Her hand went to her mouth, but when she did not move he spoke again feigning uncertainty "Is it appropriate to this occasion?"

She smiled widely, lowering her hand from her mouth. She could barely restrain herself from running to him. "Yes, Spock." She nodded "Highly appropriate."

He raised an eyebrow, inclined his head and allowed the barest of smiles to lift the corners of his mouth. "Welcome home, Christine."

She did step forward then, unable to restrain herself another moment she kissed him. He shuddered at the brush of her lips and crushed her to him, fairly devouring her mouth in response. His passion drew a gasp from Christine. "Oh, Spock. Oh, I have missed you so much." Her breathless voice a bare whisper at his lips. She fervently kissed his neck, her hands lost in his hair.

He lifted her easily into his arms and in moments she found herself lying on her bed gazing up at him. He sat on the edge of the bed rose in hand and traced the line of her jaw. She shivered at the soft touch. He brushed it over her lips teasingly. She kissed the rose, her eyes locked with his. He was suddenly envious of his gift. He trailed it lightly over her cheek, down the sweet softness of her neck, brushed her collarbone, the hollow of her neck, down the neckline of the low-cut midnight blue gown.

She closed her eyes appreciatively then sighed and slowly opened her eyes, pupils dilated with anticipation. For a moment he paused, wanting to remember her this way, dark locks splayed out over the dark coverlet. Then her hands slid up his arms and beckoned him to join her.

The smile she gave him then melted his heart. It was good to be here, with her. It was right. It sufficed. He knew that her azure eyes would always be home to him. He could **feel** it. It was an unaccustomed sensation, this certainty, but for all its illogic he knew it was right. It was almost overwhelming. Then a moment later, unable to delay himself the pleasure any longer, he leaned down to claim her mouth. The rose fell softly to the floor, forgotten.

Soon his tunic, her dress and finally his trousers piled high over the rose hastily cast aside in the heat of the moment. Like teenagers they fumbled at their final garments. She giggled nervously at his awkwardness as he fumbled with the clasp on her brassiere. He paused at her giggling and cocked an eyebrow. She grabbed him playfully and pulled him close kissing him. Then with practiced speed she rolled him onto his back on the bed. He looked genuinely surprised at her for a moment. She straddled him and sat up quickly. She laughed teasingly and unhooked her brassiere and tossed it toward their other clothing.

She smiled at the naked appreciation she saw in his eyes.

"There, it's just that easy".

He brought his hands up her waist and slowly up to cup her full breasts. He brushed his thumbs across her nipples lightly and she gasped and closed her eyes in response. He raised his head up and took one hard pink nipple into his mouth. Her pleasure fairly radiated through her skin. His mouth was so hot. He swirled his tongue in circles a well practiced technique he knew she appreciated. She let out a low moan. He repeated his actions on the unattended nipple. She ran her hands through his silken hair, and squeezed with her thighs in response. Her breathing was ragged and punctuated with small gasps.

He lifted his head and she bowed down to him, kissing him deeply. She lowered him to the pillow slowly. She kissed his throat and licked small circles in the hollow of his neck. He clutched the bed sheet as she kissed and nipped lower and lower down her lover's chest. Her trajectory well established the anticipation slowly built as she swirled her tongue round his navel. His swelling member rose in his briefs and she expertly slipped her fingers under the waistband and lowered them ever so slightly. His fevered mind calculated the distance to be slightly more than two centimeters but her warm moist breath clouded his mind so effectively that he abandoned any further such clinical observation. He yielded himself to the moment.

The dark green head of his penis was glistening with a single drop of semen. She flicked her tongue lightly across it. He gasped her name at the brief touch and fought the desire pull her down on him. She lowered her mouth again, taking him in her mouth fully, sliding his briefs down and slowly taking his full length into her mouth. Her mouth was so wet and cool, her tongue worked down the sensitive ridge to the base. A moan rumbled in his chest, she sucked hard and drew her mouth up to the head again, pausing only for a moment before repeating her actions. Each time she rose up he again drew in a shuddering breath until he found himself on the verge of losing himself.

"Christine, Ah." He gasped her name again and his fingers clenched the bed sheet as she plunged down on him again and again. She could feel his passion rise, felt the veins raise along the length of his shaft. She thought at any moment he would explode into her. She sucked hard at the head and worked down with her tongue and again dove down on his full length. He trembled under her, his control melting away. She rose up again swirling her tongue round the engorged head. He was so close. She loved it that she could do this to him, bring him so much pleasure.

Suddenly he moved with inhuman quickness and strength. He lifted her up to him and kissed her deeply, passionately. The taste of his own semen was on her lips was impossibly erotic. Their lips parted and their tongues intertwined.

He easily tore the flimsy fabric that was her panties away and they too fell to the floor. His eyes bore into her, like a caress that touched her soul. He wanted her so badly and she could feel it in his trembling frame. She ached for him as well.

She lifted herself up allowing his rigid member to jut upward toward her. She lowered herself slowly, easily impaling herself on his aching shaft. She savored each deliciously slow centimeter. He filled her fully. Their bodies were well suited to one another.

He was overwhelmed by the sensation of her cool wet folds enveloping him. She too trembled and braced herself, hands on his chest. She barely breathed as she worked to master the long-missed sensation of him inside of her. His hands firmly grasped her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He pulled her down on to him and held her there firmly. She rocked with pleasure in his fervent grip, her eyes closed her breath was small gasps. She clenched tightly, the cool pressure around him took his breath as well. He wanted to feel her moving on him he had to. He wanted nothing more than to plunge deeply into her and feel her body yield to this pleasure. He guided her hips up and felt her move in his hands, she leaned down to him hungrily now, raking his mouth with passionate kisses. She began to move her hips against him slowly. His head pressed back into the pillow mouth open in a quiet cry she kissed his neck and then worked her way up to his sensitive ear. She held her breath and lightly traced his ear with her tongue. His eyes snapped open and he cried out again. She responded to his passion moving faster and harder against him. He thrust up from the mattress and pulled her down onto him in unison with increasing abandon. She whispered his name against his lips. He heard his own voice call her name. Like a chorus their lovers whispers filled the room, their hands ran madly over one another, their voices rose together.

He wanted to be one with her deeply, deeper than they had ever experienced. It was so difficult not to reach out to her mind. It would be so easy, at this moment, when their passion was so high to just let go and bond them together. To let their spirits join in their bodies' ecstasy and never let go.

Her moan rose to a cry, he could feel her heart race against him, he thrust deeper, she rose up once again, leaned back threw her head back and cried out his name. The sight of her this way was too much for his control. A heartbeat later, he too was lost. He thrust into her a final time and then stiffened, everything seemed to melt away. For a moment there was only Spock and Christine and they were one.

All too soon the soaring sensation peaked and then passed. They collapsed together to the bed and floated in ecstasy in one another's arms.


	2. Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viruses are tricky things.

Chapter Two - Fever 

"Okay, that one's good. Next sample." 

Farron and Powell were in the lab, transferring the samples from the portable stasis fields to the sickbay's more reliable ones. Powell manipulated the controls on the sickbay's stasis field, moving the samples from their active field into the ship's field to prevent contamination. 

Of course, the samples were sealed in containers as well, but the Chief Medical Officer for Enterprise didn't allow accidents to happen. 

Faron reached for the anti grav handle on the 4th and last sample. The handle came away abruptly and the sample flipped off the table landing on the floor with a loud electronic pop. 

"Schiesse!" Powell cursed. "Did it break?" 

Farron hastily reached to pick it up. "Naw, it looks fine." 

Together they lifted the container to the table. 

"What happened?" Powell closed the field. 

Farron picked up the anti grav unit and inspected it carefully, shaking his head in frustration. "I dunno, looks like it's one of the anti grav units from the mining colony though. It just failed and flipped the container. The containment fields are short lived, we knew they'd be running out. I guess the fall overloaded the field. No harm done though." 

"I'm not so sure. We'd better report it." Powell turned to the wall intercom "Powell to Dr. McCoy." 

Farron picked up a scanner and began scanning the room. 

A moment later McCoy answered. "McCoy here." 

"Doctor, we've had a stasis field failure on sample K24. It doesn't appear to have breached the container. We've-" 

"Uh-oh." Farron looked pale. He moved to the intercom. "Sir, we've got a spill." 

"Powell, are you on ship's air or are you running in quarantine mode?" McCoy's voice rose in frustration. 

"Sorry sir, we're shutting off ship's air right now." He cursed silently. Farron sat heavily in the chair. 

"That's alright son, we'll get it taken care of. For the moment you stay put. We'll get Dr. Chapel down right away and assess the leakage. Maybe, with a little luck, we can nip this one in the bud." 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"McCoy to Chapel." Her intercom interrupted their dinner. 

They sat on opposite sides of the table, still naked from their earlier welcome home celebration, quietly enjoying one another's company. She licked honey from her fingers and moved to the intercom, selecting voice only. "Chapel here. What's up Len?" 

"Chris, we've got a problem with of your precious samples and we need you down here right away." 

She rolled her eyes then looked at Spock "How bad is it?" He rose and moved to stand behind her. He took her hand silently and began licking the honey from her fingers as well. She barely subdued the appreciative moan. 

"Well, let just say we'll be busy for the next few days. Those boys you selected for your team were running on ship's air when they were transferring the samples to ship's stasis and they've had an accident. I'm not sure how bad it is yet." 

She sighed heavily and shot a pained look to Spock. He paused a moment then stepped away to retrieve his clothing. 

"I've notified the captain. I'm sure there'll be a staff meeting shortly." At this Spock froze. If the captain was looking for him and could not find him he may ask the computer to locate the first officer. The Vulcan began to dress more quickly. 

"Thanks Len, I'll be right there." She sighed heavily again and contained the urge to curse. "Well, my love, it seems I'm going to be busy for the rest of the evening." 

"So, it would seem." He pulled his tunic on quickly and proceeded to his trousers. He was quick. He was almost dressed. "An unfortunate happenstance." He pulled on his boots. "However, I believe that shortly I too shall be heavily occupied." He rose from the chair, dressed and ready to leave, but he paused at the sight of her. 

Christine had put on a bra and panties and was turned away from him, retrieving a uniform from her closet. She felt his hands on her arms. He leaned down and kissed her neck lightly. She turned in his arms and pulled him down to kiss him. For a moment, they savored the echo of their earlier passion. Reluctantly they parted. Spock longed to say something to her, words that had risen up in the time they were apart and now the feelings threatened to spill out. He raised a hand to her cheek slowly. His eyes were intense, she sensed the struggle he was having. 

The silence was thick. "Christine, I-" she stopped him with her fingers on his lips. Then she kissed him lightly again and moved out of his embrace to slip into her uniform. When she turned to him her face was a radiant smile, but her hands were frantically working on her hair. Spock looked bemused. 

"It's all right, I understand." she murmured to him deftly clipping her hair back in a non-regulation clasp. He declined to mention the Starfleet regulation regarding duty uniforms as she looked lovely. He raised an eyebrow in surprise to her reaction. 

What had caused her to stop him? He had believed that as a human female, she needed to hear him verbalize his feelings to her. Did she truly not wish that or did she perhaps believe he was about to say something else? Given their relationship's progression he was surprised by her reaction. 

"Well, let's go mind the store." she said in her best Captain's imitation. She headed to the door "Computer, is the immediate corridor area occupied?" 

"Negative." it responded. She turned to face him "I'll see you at the briefing?" 

"Of course." He straightened himself, the slight motion causing a dramatic change in him. As the First Officer he stepped through the doorway turned to the right and was gone from her sight. She leaned against the wall for a moment. 

What the hell was she doing? Why did she stop him like that? It had obviously taken a lot for him to work up the courage to say it. Why was she so afraid to hear him say it? For that matter, why did she assume that's what he was going to say? He could have been about to say he needed some time alone this evening, or he wanted to break it off or...hell, anything. 

The last few months she kept telling herself that she didn't want to rush him into anything. Now it felt like she didn't want him rushing her into anything. Rushing? Who was rushing? He could have been requesting she turn up the temperature in her quarters for all she knew. 

She stubbornly brushed away the uncertainty and headed out through the door and made a beeline to sickbay. 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Two hours later the Captain barreled into the briefing room, flanked closely by his First Officer. Drs. McCoy and Chapel were standing discussing their report. Farron and Powell bolted from their seats and came to terrified attention. 

"Have a seat." The Captain waived his hand dismissively to the young orderlies then turned to the project supervisor, Dr. Chapel. 

"Alright, I want answers. What happened? Equipment failure? Negligence?" 

Farron visibly flinched. Christine opened her mouth to speak but Mr. Spock responded. She cocked her eyebrow in high Vulcan fashion at him but said nothing. 

"Captain, ship's records indicate that the mining colony's equipment was at best out of date and in two cases defective. As you can see from my report the portable antigravity units were 7 to 9 years old and in poor repair. The power units were not fully charged, despite maintenance records to the contrary. Furthermore, a detailed accounting of the transporter records at the time that they were brought aboard shows that the containment fields of two units, including the one that failed later in the laboratory, actually failed in transport. The failure was for .7 seconds and was not considered by the transporter's sensors to be significant at the time. Transporter sensors have been recalibrated to indicate any change in inorganic materials while in transport as anomalous and alert the transporter technician of the failure." He handed the Captain his report. 

The Captain nodded to his First Officer then swiveled to face Dr. Chapel "Doctor, what happened in the lab?" 

Christine had listened in amazement to Mr. Spock's report. He had done a thorough job and if she didn't know better she might believe he was trying to deflect any blame soundly away from her. It was a noble cause she supposed but highly unnecessary. It was also highly annoying that he jumped to her defense. She was not a first-year cadet. She was a doctor on the Enterprise and quite capable of giving a status report to the captain on her own. 

She drew in her breath slowly, calmed herself and quickly scanned her report to find any data that Spock had not already covered. 

"Well Captain. The samples that were brought up from New Serephis were active virus samples. While the virus is highly contagious it is not considered dangerous because it has never been fatal and is a mutation of a known virus that is also classified as not dangerous. Because of this classification, Faron and Powell were working well within Starfleet regulations when they were operating in a non-quarantine mode." The young men visibly relaxed. 

She continued, "Sir, my experience on the planet, while less than pleasant, was certainly not a major hardship. Our research to find an antiviral agent is continuing. I have a full crew manifest. Unfortunately, the effects of this virus are only recorded for Humans. Our latest predictions are that in approximately 48 hours we will begin to see the first cases of the virus and within 4 days assuming the rate of infection is constant 75% of the crew will be effected." 

"What symptoms are we looking at?" He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms bracing himself. 

"Well, the primary symptoms are extreme fatigue, upper respiratory disorders and gastro-intestinal disturbances, muscle and joint pain and in a small percentage a painful inflammation of the epidermal nerve endings with a visible rash. It took an average of 8.9 days to run its course in the miners, but this is only an average. Some had symptoms that lasted much longer, some much shorter. The merchant ship that most likely brought the virus reported 4 weeks down time due to what they reported as 'maintenance' just prior to visiting the colony. However, we now suspect they were ill. We are trying to locate them." She suppressed a shudder at the thought of the entire crew in bed for 4 weeks while she ran from room to room with painkillers antiemetics and various other medications to help make them more comfortable. 

"I'll be honest with you Captain it's no picnic. But once exposed the immunity appears to be permanent. Of course, that's not empirical data. That's based on experience only. We've not been able to identify the virus or the antibody. The only know individuals to have been exposed to the virus and not develop symptoms are myself and the merchant ship's captain and first officer and one miner." 

Dr. McCoy shook his head and leaned forward "Jim, we don't even know why Chris never caught it. It could be a natural immunity. It could be anything. We don't know. But we'll be working around the clock on it." 

The Captain nodded in assent "In the meantime, we need a plan. Mr. Spock, we were due to dock at Starbase K7 for resupply and R&R. How long will it take us to arrive at maximum warp?" 

"At maximum warp we should arrive at Starbase K7 in 8.75 days" Spock intoned. 

The captain surveyed the briefing room, "Recommendations?" 

Christine answered first "Sir, the virus is certainly unpleasant but harmless enough. If it follows the pattern of the existing virus then approximately 20% of the crew will be unaffected. Now we've already started standard decontamination procedure, but I don't know how effective it will be. I recommend we proceed to Starbase K7 and put in for the R&R as scheduled. By the time we get there we'll all be wishing for a little rest and relaxation. If necessary we can get medical support. I really don't see any other alternative." 

The doctor nodded "Jim, I agree with Chris. Who knows we may even be able to isolate an antiviral on the way. I'll have the replicators working overtime my Granddad's sure-fire get better secret recipe. My Granddad said it never met a flu bug it couldn't lick, or at least make a helluva lot more tolerable!" The doctor's eyes sparkled at this. "Course I won't waste any on you Mr. Spock. You wouldn't appreciate it!" he playfully teased. 

"I am certain I would not, doctor. Your archaic recipes for alcoholic concoctions inevitably cause more harm than good." Spock responded, uncharacteristically icily. The captain did not seem to notice. His mind was occupied with the welfare of his crew, but both doctors noticed. 

"Now hold on a minute there, Spock, I didn't say anything about alcohol," The doctor's outrage was real, but his tone was still attempting to remain playful "I'm talking about an amazing Hungarian Pepper and dumpling soup that-" 

"Alright, alright." The captain waved his hands calling a truce "We'll proceed to Starbase K7 then. Mr. Spock, I want the science department working in conjunction with the med labs. If that's everything, let's get to work. Dismissed." 

Everyone rose to leave. The doctor spoke to the Captain as they headed to the turbo lift. "I'll be sure to have everyone working overtime to get the crew in tiptop shape. It won't do to have the crew of the Enterprise missing out on an exciting place like K7!" his voice was laced with facetiousness. K7 was notoriously dull for R&R. But as all Starship crews knew - beggars can't be choosers. And with that each person went to his or her station. 

Christine worked 10 hours in the lab on the first night after the briefing, trying to isolate the virus in blood samples from the miners. She was pulled into sickbay early the next morning to help set up for the first of the crew illnesses, then after another 10-hour shift in the lab she chose to sleep on a cot in Sickbay rather than walk all the way back to her quarters. 

Two days later the medical staff was no nearer a remedy, but was almost overwhelmed by the patients. After four days Sickbay was so inundated with illnesses most research was relegated to the science department. The medical staff was reduced to Christine and a handful of exhausted nurses making house calls to almost every crewmember on the ship. 

Spock came in with the Science department's latest findings, Christine was exhaustedly doling out analgesics to the steady stream of crewmembers that filed in. She didn't even notice him enter and would never have known if he had not waited patiently for her to finish. She turned from the last of the aching feverish crewmembers and bumped into the ever-patient Mr. Spock. 

He noted the dark circles under her eyes, and her normally well coifed hair pulled back roughly into a simple band. A stray lock fell across her eyes. He resisted the urge to brush it away, but did not mask the concern in his eyes. "Dr. Chapel, I have the latest findings from the Science labs." His voice was tight, professional. 

She sighed at the pad and pointed to the lab doors. "Just put it in there, I'll take a look at it in a minute." She picked up her cold cup of coffee and moved to turn away. 

He caught her arm. Her head whipped up in surprise at him. 

He hastily released her arm. The concern was quickly erased from his face and replaced by a look of cool professionalism. "Perhaps it would be best if you took a moment to look at it now." His tone did not leave room for negotiation. She stared numbly at him for a moment then acquiesced and led the way into the lab. The sickbay would still be there when she returned. 

She was already apologizing when before the lab doors closed. "Spock, I'm really sorry." She turned to face him, her brows furrowed in frustration. She reached out to take the pad from him. 

Spock hastily surveyed the room and noting that it was empty quickly took her hand and pulled her into an embrace. It was a friend's hug, a supportive gesture and entirely unexpected. For a moment she stiffened with the shock of his action, unsure what to do. It was so unlike him. But after a moment she gratefully leaned into him, allowing his strength to bolster her own. 

She sighed heavily and leaned back, reached up with her hand and brushed his cheek. "Thank you." 

He held her with his eyes for a moment, then loosened his grip and allowed her to move away. 

She sat in a chair and looked over the scientific findings. She sincerely hoped they had found something she had missed. 

"Have you eaten recently?" He asked. 

She shook her head slightly, engrossed in the report "I had a late dinner last night, but I promise to eat a good lunch" she smiled at his concern and tore her eyes from the report to reassure him. 

"Christine, it is 2000 ship's time. You must eat something." 

"Mercy where did the time go?" She rose concerned "My staff hasn't taken a break all day. I'd better-" he caught her arm as she headed to the door. 

For a second time she was shocked by his behavior. His eyes narrowed at his action, his surprise was evident. He withdrew his hand slowly; his eyes spoke apology. 

"Forgive me, I am not certain why I was unable to control the urge to stop you." He turned his gaze away, searching for control. 

"It's alright Spock, I'm exhausted too. Why don't we plan on meeting in the morning for breakfast?" 

"Will you not be retiring soon?" 

"No, I need to get the Delta shift settled in and finish reading your report." She smiled wanly at the pad. 

Spock fought the desire to retrieve the report from her, "As you wish." Hands clasped firmly behind his back, "I shall see you at 0600 then?" 

"Yes, I promise I'll be in a better mood. Come by at 0600 and I'll have something delightful for breakfast." She beamed for a moment. He could not resist her smile. He nodded, accepting her offer and turned and left her office. 

At 2345 he returned to sickbay with another report. Vulcans can go for much longer than humans without sleep and despite her insistence that she would leave, he was certain that she would still be in sickbay. The duty nurse directed him to her office. 

Christine had fallen asleep in her chair. She sat with arms crossed and his last science report on her monitor as the only light in the room. Her chin had fallen to her chest, the stray lock that he resisted earlier now drooped across her eyes. He contemplated her stubbornness. Or was it just diligence. She was the only ship's physician now. Dr. McCoy had been one of the first to take ill. Spock reached out tenderly to brush the dark curl from her eyes. 

She startled awake and jumped from her chair. He barely suppressed a grin. 

"Perhaps you would be more comfortable in your quarters?" 

She smiled sheepishly at this and rose with no argument. 

They walked in silence through the ship's deserted halls to her quarters. Neither cared to look to see if there were witnesses as they entered. She moved woodenly to her bunk. Spock bent to help her remove her shoes. 

"Oh Spock, I'm sorry, I'm so tired. I promise to ravage you after I get some sleep." She playfully patted his shoulder and then fell unceremoniously to the bed with a loud thump. 

He responded with a cocked eyebrow and helped her into her bed. 

"Rest." He whispered. He lowered the lights. It was mere seconds before she was again asleep. 

He knew it would be best to leave but stood silently for a moment, allowing himself the luxury of watching her sleep. Her breath was shallow and silent, the lines of the day not quite letting go of her face. 

He tilted his head slightly at the sight of her. She was, objectively speaking, a most lovely woman. He was taken by her quiet strength and the empathetic love that she seemed to radiate even in sleep. He wished more than ever that he could tell her how he felt. 

Vulcans do not woo. It is not in their nature. They find logical solutions to difficult situations. They choose logically when choosing a mate. They act according to tradition. They live by the prescribed expectations of Vulcan society. 

But Spock was not just a Vulcan. His efforts to exorcise his human heart had almost denied him of this moment, a moment of certainty. He sighed heavily. She was strong, beautiful and sublimely stubborn. She was unpredictably human. She was often irrational and in many cases quite illogical. She was most certainly what he most desired in a mate. 

His thoughts were interrupted by her voice. "Protease inhibitors." She sat up, waking herself from her dream. "Spock, oh, I'm sorry. Did I miss breakfast? What time is it?" 

He moved forward and raised his hand to stop her from rising. "Christine, sshh. You have only just fallen asleep. Are you having difficulty?" 

"Yeah, I guess it's all that coffee." She laughed lightly, "It couldn't be the stress now could it?" She rubbed her eyes roughly and swung her feet over the edge of the bed to rise. "Well, I might as well work if I can't sleep." 

Spock did not reach out to her this time, but he did not move to allow her to pass either. He stood firmly in her way, hands clasped behind his back. "Your work would not be productive at this time, you are too fatigued. You should attempt to rest for a short time. You are a doctor, you understand the biological need for rest in humans better than I." He inclined his head and softened his tone, "Shall we discuss this at length or do you wish to make another attempt at sleep?" 

"Alright, alright, I'll rest. But only if you don't hover over me like a mother hen." She lay back stiffly on the pillow unconsciously fighting the urge to let her body fully relax. 

"If I may be so bold, I wish to offer to assist you in getting rest. There is a simple technique that I may employ to help you sleep restfully for a time." 

She smiled slightly and tried to look seductive, but her exhaustion made her only appear vulnerable. "What did you have in mind Commander?" 

He allowed a small smile to pass through his eyes. She was utterly charming. 

He could certainly give in to his baser instincts at that moment, it would be a most effective sleep enhancement for them both. Instead he responded with softness, he sat on the edge of the bed. "Nothing of that sort. I propose something of a light meld, a sleep enhancing technique that is frequently used on Vulcan children when they are ill." He was already moving to place his hands on her face. She nodded slightly trying to relax. Instead her body trembled. 

Gently he lay his hands on her face, first brushing the locks from her face then closing his eyes to place his fingers in the proper position on her temples. She smiled and thought that he looked like a master musician when he focused within himself this way. She closed her eyes as well and tried to relax. 

Thank you. he acknowledged her compliment with a cool thought that appeared in her mind, she felt his gentle touch, light as a breeze. It was startling at first to feel him here in the tightly wound confines of her mind. 

Then she felt warmth spread through her body that melted the tension from her aching muscles. She had not realized how tightly she had held herself until her muscles relaxed. It was almost painful when the relief came. Then just as easily she felt sleep come up like the tide and wash over her. Her last fleeting conscious thought that she shouldn't sleep too long was met by his reassurance that she would not. He would check to make sure she woke in the morning in time for her early shift. Then trusting him, she let go and slipped into dreamless slumber. 

He rose silently and walked reluctantly from her sleeping quarters. Her shallow even breath indicated that she had entered a restful sleep. He paused before he reached the door. He felt an irrational desire to stay, to just touch her while she slept. It would be difficult for her to rest, and she needed her rest. Yet he still did not move to go. He wanted to just touch her, just for a moment more. 

It must be the fatigue even Vulcans can be worn down. His own workload was overwhelming. His science staff now consisted of himself and two yeomen. He allowed himself a deep sigh, then exited Christine's quarters deep in thought. 

The Captain had been quite ill at the beginning of the duty shift, 18 hours ago and had only stayed on the bridge because the helmsman had to leave. Spock was certain that in a few hours he would go to the bridge and find that only he and perhaps Comdr. Uhura remained from the normal alpha shift. Ship's systems could be programmed to function automatically, they were only 3 days from Starbase K7 and if the necessity arose he could get assistance from another Federation vessel. 

Enterprise had a proud crew. It would be best to limp in under their own power if at all possible. 

He had not experienced any of the symptoms of the virus and if their research was any indication he most likely would not. It seemed that this strain only targeted humans, but not all humans. There were some that appeared to be immune, although it was not clear why they were unaffected. Spock reached his quarters and though he felt unusually fatigued, he did not believe he could sleep. He went directly to his meditation corner with the intention of meditating for no more than an hour before he went to bed. 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Captain Kirk awoke with a start and instantly regretted his excellent reflexes. His entire body was in excruciating pain. Jumping in his sleep had done nothing to help that sensation and had only caused his stomach to spasm painfully. He fought the vertigo and nausea and rose from his bed slowly. 

He had placed a pitcher of water nearby before retiring, knowing that he would most likely not feel like getting up to get it in when he woke. He sipped the cool water slowly, testing his stomach's ability to tolerate it. 

He placed the cup down. His hand trembled with the effort. Well hell, he thought, I guess this damn thing doesn't discriminate based on rank. He felt the preposterous outrage of a man unaccustomed to being sick. He grunted slightly as he rose to move to his desk. He roughly hit the intercom button. 

"Kirk to Spock." He paused, expecting his First Officer to respond immediately. When no answer came he looked at his chronometer, blinking several times because his eyes were cloudy and tired. 0530, Spock should be in his quarters, unless he was already on the Bridge. Kirk checked quickly, but found the Vulcan had not reported in yet. 

He fought the panic that rose in him, what if Spock was sick, too sick to respond to his hails. "Computer, locate First Officer Spock." 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Christine Chapel exited the shower and quickly toweled off. She had slept so well, thanks to Spock, she felt like a new woman. She relished the hot shower, brief though it was. Her mind intent on some new ideas for combating the virus that had now crippled the Enterprise. 

She wrapped a towel around her hair, not bothering with a second one to cover her body. She stepped into her room only to be greeted by the sight of a bewildered Spock and the sound of an incoming message from the ship's intercom. 

"Kirk to Dr. Chapel." She barely suppressed her startled cry. "Captain Kirk to Dr. Chapel, please respond." The captain sounded concerned. 

Spock didn't move from his spot in the center of the room, but his eyes belied the fact that he was lost. He had no memory of how he came to be in her quarters, only the captain's voice had brought him out of his reverie. 

Christine moved to the intercom, "Chapel here, sir." She tried to sound casual. "What can I do for you?" 

"Doctor, is Mr. Spock there?" He sounded concerned and curious at the same time. 

"Yes sir he is, we've been--going over the latest science department findings before duty shift." She looked pointedly at Spock, her eyes pleading with him to say something to help cover the lie. 

Spock gathered himself hastily, almost noiselessly cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Spock here, Captain. Is there something you require?" 

There was a pause as the Captain seemed to digest what he had heard as if he were deciding if he believed them or not. Why shouldn't he? Surely he of all people would know if his First Officer were seeing someone. Wouldn't he? Especially if it was Christine Chapel. He must be misinterpreting. It must be the virus. Yes, that was it, he was overtired. 

"Mr. Spock, I will not be joining you on the Bridge this morning. Do you think you can hold down the fort until I get there?" 

Spock closed his eyes painfully, but responded confidently and firmly. "Yes Captain. I will see to it that you receive medical assistance immediately. Your presence on the bridge is not required." 

"That's not necessary Mr. Spock. I'm fine. I've already taken the analgesic that Dr. Chapel prescribed for the crew. I'm going to shower and attempt to come to the Bridge. However, I'm not sure how far I'm going to get." 

Dr. Chapel interjected "Captain, I want you to stay in bed. You'll recover faster if you sleep. I'm sure Mr. Spock will contact you if you're required on the bridge." She was still staring at Spock, trying to catch clues as to why he was here. What was wrong? 

"Thank you Doctor. Mr. Spock, I'll see you on the Bridge." Kirk cut the channel before either of them could respond. 

Spock let out a perceptible sigh as he sat heavily in the chair next to the desk. 

Christine moved to him quickly, oblivious to her nudity. "Spock, are you alright? What is it? Why are you here?" 

Spock only stared at the wall, he seemed impossibly still. She moved to him, raising a hand to brush his cheek. His hand shot up and caught her wrist roughly, his eyes met hers slowly. His touch was feverish. Something was very wrong. 

She tried to pull her hand back but his grip was steel. She shifted her glance from his hand to his eyes. His eyes were intensely dark. She had never seen him like this. His gaze slid slowly down her body, she could almost feel the heat of it on her skin. A shudder ran through her and realization came over her. She most certainly *had* seen him like this before but that had been years ago. 

"Spock." She spoke softly, trying not to provoke him. When he didn't respond she spoke again, this time with more force "Spock! Release me!" His eyes snapped up to meet hers and he hastily complied her. She stepped quickly away. Spock again blinked and seemed to come back to himself. He looked away, closing his eyes in shame at his loss of control. 

"I came to - I came to tell you that -" he sounded confused, grasping at his motivation for invading her privacy. It was unthinkable that he had entered her quarters without her knowledge. Surely he had had sufficient motivation. He couldn't remember. What was it? Oh yes, "-it is 0600." 

For her part Christine was more concerned with covering herself and getting Spock under a medical scan. When she turned to face him a moment later, he sat hands clasped fingers pointed in his all too familiar pose of deep thought. Christine held her robe firmly closed with one hand. She used a medical scanner with the other. The warbling pierced the silence. Spock's eyes met hers for a moment. No words were necessary. She sighed and sat on the bed opposite him. 

"How long have you known?" She spoke softly, there was no mistaking her meaning. 

He swallowed hard, it was not an easy subject to discuss. It should have been easy, she was his doctor, his friend and his lover. It should not be difficult. But the culture of a people cannot be so easily pushed aside. 

"I was not certain until now. Are you certain? There is no possibility that it could be anything else. " a pained look crossed his face. 

"Why? Spock? Do you think there is another reason for this? For your behavior today? Yesterday?" She felt doubt creep into her. Perhaps there was something more than the poor timing. 

Then a shocking thought came to her, perhaps he was concerned not because of the diagnosis, but because of the choice it forced on him. Perhaps he did not want *her*. She pushed the thought aside. 

"Spock, what is it?" She reached for his arm gently, reassuringly. She would accept whatever he had to say. She was not the love-sick girl of 10 years ago, she would not let him know how much it would hurt her she wasn't his choice. 

10 years ago, it might have crushed her to be so close to him and not be his choice of mate. But 10 years is a long time...*10 years*. 

"But--the timing isn't right, is it?" She said, realization dawning on her. "That's it isn't it? It's not the right time. It's been more than 10 years since - have you experienced this since then? Three years ago?" 

He shook his head, "No." 

She rose and moved away. Now she was very confused. Every 7 years, that's what the textbooks said. Well maybe they were wrong, maybe there was something in his genetic structure that changed that. Or maybe he was manifesting some unforeseen symptom of the illness that was ravaging the crew. "Then what is it? The virus? Could that be it?" she turned to meet his helpless gaze. "Let's get you to sickbay, I want to run a full diagnostic scan on you." 

Two hours later, Dr. Chapel paced in her office coffee in hand recording the medical log. 

"...It appears that the virus has infected every member of the crew that is susceptible. All the effected crewmembers are all human, but not all human crewmembers are ill. I haven't been able to draw any connections between them except that they are all female and they all currently serve on Enterprise. Fully 30% of Enterprises crew is female, and most of them are ill, why this particular group has remained unaffected is unclear. All non-human crew members are unaffected as well." 

She pondered whether she should note Spock's condition. He was on the bridge, having passed his physical surprisingly well. His adrenal function was up but most neurotransmitter levels were normal. His hormone level seemed to be slightly out of balance, but they were not indicative of the early stages of Ponn Far. She had given him a mild sedative, which he had protested until she indicated that he could stay in sickbay or receive the injection. 

There was certainly something not quite right with him, but it was a mystery. For the moment she decided to maintain his privacy. Perhaps it was simply a symptom of the virus in his hybrid physiology that they hadn't encountered. Whatever it was the key was still in the virus. 

She continued "Only 14 crewmembers have developed any severe symptoms, upper respiratory distress and dehydration primarily, they remain in Sickbay to prevent further complications. Nothing life threatening. We should rendezvous with the California shortly; however, I recommend that Enterprise remain quarantined until either a more effective treatment can be developed or until all crewmembers are fully recovered and no longer at risk for transmitting the virus." She ended the recording at that point. 

She sat in her chair staring blankly at the wall. There had to be a connection. Every puzzle had a solution. What was the common denominator? 

She exhaled angrily and pounded the t able. What was it? 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"It isn't your fault! Damnit, you don't have to do this." 

Powell began to weave back and forth with the effort to stand. He wanted to talk some sense in his friend, but the effort of standing was making him dizzy. 

"Leave me alone!" Farron quickly disappeared into the bathroom hand over mouth. 

After a long time he came out, shaking and pale. His voice was scratchy and raw, "I've got to get back to sickbay." He pulled on a uniform jacket, one intended for landing party missions. Not that he had been on one. Given his performance of late he figured he wouldn't be on one any time soon. "I want to talk to Dr. Chapel." 

"Fine, but I'm going with you." 

"Hell no. You stay here, there's no reason for you to be wandering the halls." 

"Hey if it's important enough for you to be up, it's important enough for me. What the hell is so important?" He leaned heavily on his friend and they staggered out into the hall. 

"I think I have an idea about this virus." He swallowed hard after the word 'virus' trying to calm his stomach. 

"Yeah, me too, it's one big bowl of slime worm pudding!" Powell sputtered trying to laugh. Instead he began coughing uncontrollably. They weaved like drunken cadets through the corridor. 

"Nah, I just think I have an idea." 

"So, what are you a doctor now?" 

"No." 

Powell spoke into one cupped hand, "Paging Doctor Faron, paging Doctor Kelly Faron." 

"Shut up Greg, or I'll leave you right here in the hall." 

"No, you won't." Powell tried to pat his friend on the back and ended up leaning heavily on him. 

"Oh, I won't? And why is that?" Kelly chuckled half-heartedly and steered his friend into the turbolift. 

"Cause you'd miss my jokes. Why are engineers the best patients? Cause they're all color coded inside!" He laughed loudly at his own joke, holding his stomach with one hand and leaning with the other against the turbolift wall. 

"That's the stupidest joke I've ever heard." He sighed, "Sickbay" he ordered the lift. 

"No, it isn't you just don't have a sense of humor. You're too worried about getting busted over this accident. You've got to lighten up. How about this, Dr. Faron. Why is a politician the best patient? They have no heart, no guts and no brain!" 

"You're a real moron you know that?" He led the way out into the corridor. 

"Yeah, sure. Okay these two Andorians walk into a bar, which is funny cause when the first one hit it he should have told the second one to look out for the bar. You get it?" He laughed again, his knees began to fail. He was ready to collapse. 

"Oh looky, I got you here safe and sound..." They walked into sickbay. Powell fainted. His friend wanted to catch him, but was barely able to keep himself up. 

"You got me here?" He stepped aside and let the on-duty nurse pick up his friend. He turned to face the doctor. 

"Dr. Chapel, I need to talk to you." 

She scanned the orderly and with a kind smile steered him into her office. 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Computer compare the health records of the following crewmembers-Christine Chapel, Sarah Rockman," She paused a moment, there was something about Sarah Rockman's last physical that was bothering her. What was it? Unable to pinpoint it, she finished the list for the computer. 

"List any facts that are common in all the health records." The computer began droning facts that were too general. "Computer stop. Compare records list submitted to the current crew manifest of human. Computer, what are the commonalties between the virus free individuals that are not present in any of the crewmembers that are currently ill." 

"Working...." 

When the computer did not respond immediately she asked "Computer, estimate time to complete query." 

"47 minutes." 

She sighed again heavily and moved to another terminal and accessed Sarah Rockman's medical file. 

"Dr. McCoy to Dr. Chapel." The intercom interrupted her search. She rubbed her eyes wearily and responded to the weak voice of her supervisor. 

"Chapel here, what are you doing up Len?" 

"Chris, how are you holding up?" His voice crackled hoarsely. He sounded positively miserable. 

"As well as could be expected. You?" She poured another cup of coffee from the urn on her desk. The dark smell of it rose with the steam. She took a sip. 

He chuckled wryly, "I've been better. Any good leads?" 

"No, I'm afraid not. All we've been able to figure out is that some of the women in the crew are not affected, but we can't isolate why. It would help if we could get a look at the virus. Ensign Farron came in with an idea. We're still checking it out. He's a smart kid. Don't worry, we're working around the clock." She sipped her coffee again. "Would you like me to bring you some soup?" she chuckled lightly then added "I think the one in your office is programmed with the McCoy family wonder soup." 

There was a long pause then the doctor responded weakly "Nah, you just keep working on getting us up and feeling better." He coughed several times, then finished, "Let me know if you find anything, McCoy out." 

Christine turned her attention back to the medical file. She read for some time. Then accessed another of the healthy women's files. Then another. 

She narrowed her eyes at what she saw. She picked up a bio scanner and changed the settings on it and scanned herself. Then she scanned the room. That had to be it! 

She may have found the virus and more importantly she may have found how it was being transmitted. 

Excited at the revelation, she rose quickly and charged into Sickbay. She may very well have found the key.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Mr. Spock?" Uhura repeated. She turned this time to the silent First Officer. He seemed lost in thought. Not unheard of in the captain, but she had never had to repeat herself to the Vulcan before. 

"Commander?" Spock turned to face her. His expression gave no indication of his lapse. 

"Sir, the USS California is hailing us, Sir." 

"On screen Commander." He turned to the view screen. 

The view screen was filled with the image of Captain Edwards, she greeted him with a nod, "Mr. Spock, I understand you folks are feeling a little under the weather. What can we do to offer assistance?" 

Spock's response was cold "If by under the weather you mean that we currently have a large number of crew members afflicted with an unknown disease and are currently running at 20% capacity then yes we are 'under the weather' as you say." 

"Uh-huh, well then." She blinked at his response and continued stiffly. "May we offer assistance?" 

"Dr. Chapel has declared Enterprise under quarantine. However, I believe we may be in need of medical supplies. I will contact the doctor and send you a list of our requirements." His tone was even and emotionless. When he continued to stare blandly at her she curtly acknowledged him and cut the channel. 

The skeleton bridge crew sat in stunned silence. Certainly, they knew Mr. Spock was a Vulcan, but he had not been so very-Vulcan in years. The air was thick with tension. 

"Commander Uhura, you have the con. I will be consulting with the doctor regarding her needs." Spock rose, not meeting her shocked gaze and was in the turbo lift before he finished his sentence. The lift doors shut before she could register a protest. She shot an amazed look to the helmsman and moved easily to the big chair. 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Spock! What are you doing in here?" Dr. Chapel looked up from her terminal at her unexpected visitor. She immediately rose and snatched up a scanner and hypo spray when she caught the expression on his face. 

"I have come to tell you that we have rendezvoused with the California and they are awaiting your list of medical supplies." He answered stiffly, but his eyes belied his difficulty at control. 

She nodded, understanding. Sickbay was full of people - patients and her meager staff. She led the way to her office, "I have a list already prepared in my office." She gestured him in ahead of her. As the doors closed behind them she scanned him quickly, then pressed the hypo to his neck before he could protest. 

He stopped in his tracks, his breathing was shallow, heat radiated from him. He drew in a deep shuddering breath. "Christine..." He hissed he could not continue. 

"It's alright Spock, I know. I think I may have isolated the problem with the crew. Although I'm still at a loss as to what is afflicting you." 

He turned to face her. His eyes were like flames. He had been thinking of her all day, nothing could distract him. It was physically painful to be apart from her and the difficulty was increasing. It was only a matter of time before he lost control again. He wanted to just touch her, just for a moment. He couldn't give in, he must hold on for a little while longer. He tore his eyes from hers. She could see it caused him pain. 

The warm sensation of the sedative spread through him, cooling the fire a bit. He closed his eyes and concentrated on control, a few heartbeats later he opened them slowly. It would suffice, for now. 

"I've already begun what I believe is the proper treatment to the men in Sickbay. I'm tracking their progress. I'll keep you updated." She looked uncomfortably to the floor, "I am so sorry Spock." 

He looked up at her. "I do not understand." His voice was a whisper. 

"I don't know what I can do to help you." She blushed furiously at that and spoke quickly, "I just don't understand what's happening to you and I can't slow the effects. I'm a doctor and I can't cure this, I'm not even sure of the diagnosis. Your readings are mixed, and the symptoms are increasing far faster than they should. I just don't know what to do. I'll do everything I can for you." She turned away and murmured "I will honor whatever choice you make. We can try to get you to Vulcan but your symptoms are progressing so quickly I just don't know. " she looked helplessly at him. 

He blinked not understanding what she was saying. To Vulcan? Why should he go to Vulcan? Was it possible she truly did not understand? 

"I do not wish to go to Vulcan." He spoke softly, intensely. Was she truly unsure of how he felt? "I do not need to go to Vulcan. I need you Christine. Do you not know this?" 

"I-I don't know, I don't know what I thought. But I - I can't just leave -" Her office doors slid open and a haggard Dr. McCoy entered. 

"Chris, I want a dose of whatever you gave those boys in there." He did not seem to notice Spock's expression. The great wall of Vulcan was already up by the time the doctor stopped talking. 

"I will take your list of supplies to the bridge, Doctor." Spock clasped his hands behind his back waiting for the list. 

Christine handed him the pad and helplessly watched him go. She turned her attention to the swaying doctor, taking him by the elbow and leading him back into Sickbay. 

"Alright, but you're not going to believe me when I tell you my theory." 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Spock sagged against the turbo lift wall. Control, he must maintain control. He trembled with the effort, his fingers barely able to grip the pad. 12 more hours until they reached K7, 12 hours 14 minutes. 14 minutes? Or perhaps it was 4 minutes. He wasn't certain and it didn't matter. He drew himself up to full attention. Control, he was a Vulcan, he must control. 

The turbolift doors opened. He stiffly entered and without a word handed the medical supply list to Commander Uhura. She returned to her communications console and transmitted the supply list. 

Time passed in so slowly, Spock was not certain he would be able to maintain his facade. Then suddenly the endlessly rhythmic sound of the bridge computers was punctuated by the ship's intercom. 

"McCoy to Bridge". Spock looked plainly surprised and only caught himself when he met Uhura's gaze. He quickly gathered himself. "Spock here. Dr. McCoy, I am surprised to hear your voice. Are you recovered?" 

"Why yes, Mr. Spock. I'm feeling much better, thank you for your concern. Now I'd like you report to your quarters immediately. Dr. Chapel will meet you there." 

"I beg your pardon, Doctor?" Surely his control had slipped. He had had an auditory hallucination of some sort. 

McCoy chuckled, "Relax Spock, she's going to place the medical quarantine seals on your quarters. The anti virus agent is dangerous for your physiology. I thought it would be best to seal you in there since the ship's air system will have to be saturated with the stuff for at least half an our, then completely purged before we can release the seals. I thought you'd be more comfortable there." 

Spock contemplated this for a moment. There was a flaw in the logic of the argument. He just couldn't pinpoint it. Certainly, it seemed plausible. He nodded his head "Very well doctor. Comdr. Uhura, you have the con." He rose slowly and moved to the turbolift. He paused, "How long until we reach the Starbase commander?" 

She moved easily to the chair, checked the data on the armrest monitor and swiveled to face him. " 9 hours 7 minutes, sir." 

He nodded tightlipped, "Carry on." 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When Spock arrived at his quarters Christine was not outside waiting as McCoy had stated. He knew where he would find her, had sensed her location for hours as his hunger had grown. Thought they were not bonded he could feel her. Perhaps because they had melded so many times. Inevitably that sort of mental sharing led to a resonance, a bond of sorts. He could feel the slight presence in his mind and the hunger for more was almost unbearable. When he stepped into his quarters the door hissed closed and he was surrounded in near darkness. 

His fire pot cast eerie shadows on the walls. The environmental controls had been altered. It was quite comfortable, it had been reset to Vulcan norm. Most overpowering was the intoxicating scent of Christine. She stood in the center of the room. She was radiant, the most desirable of creatures in the galaxy. 

He rushed forward to her "Christine-" embraced her desperately, not trusting that she was really there. He kissed her with a fire she had never felt from him. It was over powering. She was swept up in the sensation of passion. It seemed to arc like electricity into her skin from his touch. "Spock, oh God," she pushed herself away slightly her eyes were tinged with regret. "My love I'm so sorry." 

He did not have time to question her. A hypo spray hissed against his neck and blackness claimed him a moment later. 

Christine fought the tears that threatened to spill. Exhaustion and the intense emotions of the day were almost too much. "I hope this works." She checked a second hypo for the final time and pressed it against her own arm then quickly left, placing a medical seal on the door. Only medical personnel could lift a quarantine seal. He would be safe in there, and by the time he awoke it would all be over. 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When Spock did finally awaken, he found himself on his bed. He sat up quickly and immediately noticed two things. The terrible aching was gone and Christine was keeping vigil in a chair nearby. 

She smiled sweetly at him. "Right on time, how do you feel?" 

"I am well, although I am at a loss as to how." He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and sat stiffly waiting on an explanation. 

"Tsk-tsk, Spock. You should have more faith in your doctor." She produced a medical scanner from a pocket and rose to scan him. "Well, the scanner agrees. It would seem that you are in fine health. However, I think that I should prescribe some R&R just to be on the safe side." She winked teasingly. 

"And the crew?" he inquired evenly. 

"They are doing great. I finally cracked the damn virus." She sat heavily in her chair once again. "It's going to make for a really great paper for Starfleet medical." 

He rose and moved to the replicator, "What did you find?" He returned with a cup of coffee for her and a cup of tea for himself. He sat on the edge of the bed nearest to her. 

"Hmm, Thank you." She inhaled the steam and took a sip. "Well, for one thing the virus wasn't hiding in any of the patients. The virus was active and being replicated in the women that we had classified as healthy. I brought the virus aboard. It most likely could not have been the containment leak that we suspected. The virus requires two hosts to survive. It is replicated in women and remains asymptomatic. It is transmitted through the air via certain types of pheromones. Symptoms in the men are more like an allergic reaction and once exposed it takes up to 4 weeks to build sufficient antibodies to thwart the virus depending on how often they are exposed to the carrier. As you know we worked around the clock trying to keep everyone comfortable. Unfortunately, we were only making it worse. The carrier, it appears, will not develop antibodies because they're immune system is not triggered by the virus." 

"And the treatment?" He thoughtfully sipped from his own cup. 

"Well, first I replicated some of the antibodies from the transporter technician who beamed me up from New Serephis. All of the women received a steroid to prevent any pheromone production for a few days. I matched a probiotic from our ship's records and found that if I released it into the air I could get the most bang for my buck." 

"Bang for your buck?" Spock's eyebrows raised. 

She chuckled, "Something Dr. McCoy said. What I mean is that I was able to get treatment out to the most number of patients in the shortest amount of time. I chose to use a probiotic that worked very quickly rather than the more time-consuming antibiotic route. It was easy enough to insert the antibody DNA in the probiotic virus. The whole process only took about an hour. The cure is not exactly dangerous to Vulcans, but it can be quite uncomfortable. I also wanted to see if my treatment for you would work." She smiled widely with pride, "I'm glad to see you're responding well. Or should I say not responding at all?" 

Spock was perplexed, "Not responding? What sort of treatment did you administer?" 

"Well, I must admit you had me stumped. Until I came to the pheromone connection with the virus. It isn’t just women but ovulating women that carry the virus. That’s when I realized that your symptoms began when I had returned from the mining colony as well. You were virus free and exhibiting symptoms of Pon Farr." She noticed his ears darken at the mention of the term. He was so endearing when he blushed. She tried to conceal her humor, but her eyes twinkled. "I confidentially consulted with an expert on Vulcan biology and found that Vulcan physiology is more complicated than I was taught in Medical School. Pon Farr is triggered by the ovulation of the female to whom the male is bonded. I deduced that you were reacting to the change in my own cycle and decided that the best treatment would be to eliminate the trigger. And here you are." 

"Fascinating." His eyes narrowed, "May I ask which Vulcan Biological expert you consulted?" he was certain he did not wish to become an object of medical scrutiny. 

She laughed then and rose, it was time to get back to work. "You may ask, my love, but I've been sworn to secrecy. Have no fear, your service privacy has been protected." 

He rose as well and moved to face her "Of that I have not doubt." He took the coffee from her hands and deposited it with his own cup on the side table. Then he turned to face her once again. She smiled broadly and reached up to embrace him, he slid his hands around her waist and kissed her easily. For a long time, they kissed, each not wanting to let go. After a moment they did lean back and look into one another's eyes. 

Spock raised one hand to Christine's face and brushed her cheek lightly. He traced the outline of her jaw and lightly brushed her lips. He trailed his fingers up to trace her rounded brow, which she cocked immediately, a silent inquiry. He brushed her hair away from her face. His eyes were intense. His fingers traced her rounded ear, inadvertently tickling her. She laughed lightly and turned her face to kiss his hand. She caught it with her own and held it to her heart. 

"What is it Spock?" 

He looked deeply into her eyes a look of awe filled him. The corner of his mouth rose. Before she could protest he would speak. 

His voice was soft "I love you, Christine." 

"I love you too Spock." Her eyes glistened, with what he knew to be joy. He bent to kiss her again, but the intercom stopped him. 

"Kirk to Spock." 

He did not release her. "Spock here." He brushed his lips against her forehead lightly. 

"Mr. Spock, if the doctor has released that quarantine seal on your quarters I could use you on the bridge for leave rotations to Starbase 7. Unless of course you were planning on taking some R&R yourself." His tone clearly indicated Spock would decline leave as he always did. 

"Actually Captain, I was just discussing my R&R plans with Dr. Chapel. I believe I will be making use of the Starbase's recreational facilities, Thank you." He quietly kissed Christine. 

There was a long pause, the First Officer had stunned his Captain. "I see, very well then. I guess I'll see you on the station then. Kirk out." 

Spock did not acknowledge the captain. He was otherwise occupied. He knew that soon enough he would have to come up with an explanation, but for the moment he had other things on his mind.


	3. Shore Leave on K7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock and Christine, arguing and making up. 
> 
> (cue the cheesy soundtrack)

Chapter 3 - Shore leave on K7 

Jim entered Sickbay, at the end of his duty shift, with one thing in mind. He was going to get to the bottom of Mr. Spock's uncharacteristic behavior if it killed him. 

Doctor McCoy turned, surprised to see the Captain. "Jim, to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" He quickly ran a scanner over his friend, fearful that he was perhaps still sick. 

The captain waived his hand at him, "No, Bones, I feel fine. I'm here about Spock." 

"Spock? What's wrong with Spock?" He turned walked around his desk muttering "Danged Vulcan! He'd wander the universe with pneumonia if - " 

"Bones, relax he's not sick. At least I don't think so..." the captain paused thoughtfully, crossing his arms and propping one hip on the doctor's desk. He had not considered the possibility that Spock might be experiencing a physical reason for behaving so oddly. 

"Well then what?" McCoy sighed. He really didn't have time for this right now. There was a shuttle headed to Auroelus in three hours and he was going to be on it. Jim had declined the camping trip this time in favor of the space station's local entertainment. 

"Do you have any idea what Spock's going to be doing while we're here?" 

"No." This was getting ridiculous. He needed to get the last of the viral samples to the transporter room before he could leave the ship. 

"Neither do I." The captain stood and faced the doctor. He placed his hands emphatically on the doctor's desk and leaned across. "I can tell you what he's not doing, he's not staying on board." 

"Oh?" The doctor crossed his arms. He was unimpressed. 

"He told me he was discussing his plans with Dr. Chapel." His tone was as even as Spock's had been. 

McCoy's jaw dropped. He sputtered a moment, waving his finger at his friend "Now hold on a moment, what did you say?" 

Jim smiled "You heard me. I've got witnesses, I was talking to him from the bridge." 

McCoy paced away thoughtfully, then turned. "Now maybe you're just jumping to conclusions here," His eyes narrowed "did he say he was discussing his plans with Christine or he had plans with Christine?" 

"That's just it Bones, I don't know. And he said 'Dr. Chapel' not 'Christine'. I thought you might have some...insight." He tried to look innocent. 

McCoy was not fooled, he rolled his eyes and spread his arms, "You've got to be kidding! You two have always been as thick as thieves. What makes you think he'd be confiding in me?" 

"I don't know! He's been spending a fair amount of time down here. I thought he might have said something." 

"You are a lousy liar, Jim. And no, Chris hasn't said a thing about it. As a matter of fact, I haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary with her. You're jumping to conclusions." 

He moved to his notorious cupboard and retrieved a bottle and two glasses. "Here, it's good for what ails you." He handed his friend a shot of fine Kentucky bourbon. They each regarded their glasses in silence. 

The captain drained his glass "You're probably right. Hell, it's none of our business anyway." 

The doctor followed suit "Damn straight." 

The set their glasses down in unison, staring at one another in a Mexican stand off. 

The doctor moved first. He tapped the intercom "McCoy to Chapel." The captain suppressed a wide grin, folded his arms and leaned one hip on the doctor's desk listening silently. 

\-- 

Christine looked up from her overnight case to the door "Come." 

Spock entered with his usual aplomb and moved into her sleeping area. He was relaxed in his uniform, but wore the expression of a man with a secret. She smiled at him "Hello again, love. I'm almost finished." She reached into a drawer and retrieved a small, flimsy piece of chartreuse fabric that he knew to be a sleeping garment. One of her favorites. She smiled seductively at him, her eyes held a promise that he was eagerly looking forward to her keeping. He clasped his hands behind his back, as he so often did, and cocked an eyebrow. "It would be an inefficient use of packing space to bring that, given the amount of time the garment will be in use." She laughed and brushed his arm. "You, Mr. Spock are an incomparable tease!" 

Both eyebrows shot up at that and he swiftly pulled her to him planting a passionate kiss on her lips, stealing her breath away. "Vulcans do not tease." he whispered. 

The intercom sounded, stopping their discussion. Christine groaned and grumbled as she moved to the comm. "Chapel here." 

"Hey, Chris." It was Uhura. Christine smiled to her friend, picking up the coffee cup that sat nearby. Spock stayed out of viewer range. 

"Hey Ny. What can I do for you?" She took a sip of the cold coffee. 

"Well, actually I was just getting ready to leave for some R&R when a message came in from Vulcan for you. I thought you might want to see it before you left on leave yourself. It's from-" 

Christine hastily interrupted her friend, color rising to her cheeks. "Thank you, Ny. Just dump it in my message box I'll retrieve it when I get back." 

Uhura blinked at her this, unaccustomed to such abruptness from her friend. Before she could respond Christine continued "You have a good time, I'll talk to you later." and with that she cut the channel. 

The interchange was not lost on Spock. He appeared impassive, but his eyes were dark. 

She opened her mouth to say something, to continue the ruse, to deny wrong doing, but the expression on his face stopped her. They stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, his eyes boring into her, panic rising up. 

"My mother?!" 

"Spock I-" she sputtered 

"You discussed my condition with my mother?" His tone was icily calm, but the anger was unmistakable. 

"You were acting so oddly-" She protested, she moved toward him, gesturing with her hands, trying to convince him. "-I couldn't figure out what was going on." 

He stepped back, "Christine, you had no right to contact my-" 

"I didn't know what else to do!" She raised her voice, she could feel the blood pounding in her face. She was angry and frustrated and not a little bit embarrassed for herself, as well as for him. 

"Didn't you." His quiet words stung her. His cold dark stare met her angry blue eyes. There was only silence. 

The intercom sounded again, "McCoy to Chapel." 

This time she yelled angrily, "NO!" and threw the coffee cup in her hand. It hit the wall above the intercom with a loud crash. Coffee sprayed the wall. She stood for a moment staring in disbelief at the mess. She tensed her jaw and moved to the intercom. 

She paused a moment, gathered herself and pushed the button. 

"Chapel here." She didn't try to sound pleasant, didn't care what he thought. She just wanted him to go away and let her talk to Spock. 

The doctor did not seem to notice, "Hey Chris," he smiled pleasantly. "I'm just about finished with your beloved samples." 

"That's great, Len. What can I do for you?" 

"Well, I was wondering what sort of plans you had for leave." He fished amicably. 

"Why do you ask?" she sidestepped, not looking at Spock. 

The doctor sputtered a moment, he hadn't thought this through well enough. He quickly covered "Well I need to leave right away to catch a shuttle. I'm going on a camping trip and don't want to keep the others waiting. I was hoping you could come finish up for me." He lied. He had plenty of time, but if it got her to admit to what Jim suspected.... 

Christine's mind was on Spock, she didn't want to deal with this right now. She just wanted to get him off the comm, "I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do. So Sure, Len." Spock turned to leave at this. She controlled her expression but wanted to scream to him Don't Go!. It was too late, he was gone. 

"Great, well I'll see you down here then." 

"Yeah, alright I'll be right down." She ran for the door. 

\-- 

McCoy turned to the quiet Captain looking like the cat who ate the canary. The captain wasn't convinced. 

"A fat lot of help you are." He stood and moved to leave. 

"C'mon Jim, you heard her. She doesn't have plans." The doctor tried to convince his friend. "You can't really believe that if Christine Chapel had plans to spend some R&R with Spock she wouldn't at least be bubbling over like a schoolgirl can you? If Spock hasn't told you and Chris hasn't told me then I think we're just jumping to conclusions." 

He had a point. After all this time it'd pretty hard for Christine to hide something that she'd been waiting so long for. Who knows, maybe she wasn't all that taken with the First Officer anymore. He considered the possibility that Spock could keep something like this from him. It certainly wasn't out the realm of possibility, but the longer he thought about it the less likely it seemed. 

"You're probably right." He shook his head and chuckled to himself. It was a funny thought, Christine and Spock. "Oh well, I guess that makes us just a pair of old gossips, doesn't it Bones?" 

"Hey now, I'm not gossiping about anything. And I don't wanna hear anymore about it." He wagged his finger at the captain. "Not unless it's true." He winked and grinned from ear to ear. 

"Have a good time camping, Bones." He turned and left sickbay. 

"You get some rest too, Jim." the doctor called to the closing doors. 

\-- 

Christine barely caught the turbo lift. Spock did not meet her eyes. 

As soon as the doors closed she turned to him. 

"Spock you can't run away from this we need to talk about it." 

"Your presence is required in Sickbay. Perhaps at a later time." The great wall of Vulcan was firmly in place. She reached out to touch him but the turbolift doors opened. 

The captain stood in the doorway, smiling from ear to ear. "Hello Doctor. Mr. Spock." 

She stepped past him into the corridor. The captain stepped into the turbolift. Before the doors closed, Spock caught a glimpse of her pained expression. 

"Bridge. So, Mr. Spock, have you decided what you're doing for leave?" He was not quite fishing. He just wanted to be sure. 

"I am undecided." Spock he said evenly. After a moment he turned to his friend, his eyebrows furrowed. "May I have your opinion?" 

"Absolutely!" 

"I have been working on a confidential and highly sensitive project in my off-duty time for 8 months 2 weeks and 4 days. I have reached something of an impasse and am uncertain whether it would be best to proceed with my work or discontinue it. I cannot, however, discuss the details at this time." 

"Well-that's a little vague, but I think that if you've invested this much time into it, it must be something important. 8 months is a lot of time to just work on something then just throw in the towel. Maybe all you really need is a break. R&R is just what the Doctor ordered." 

"Indeed." 

"I'm being quite literal, Mr. Spock." the turbolift doors opened. He turned to his friend. "Dr. Chapel was quite specific in her report. You are to take leave for a minimum of 7 days. So, go somewhere and don't think about work. Who knows an answer may just suddenly come to you." He stepped onto the bridge, leaving friend in the lift. 

"Yes sir." The doors shut on a thoughtful Spock. 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

By the time Christine had finished transferring the samples to the transporter room she was in a thoroughly dreadful mood. Fortunately, no one had been around to question her. It seemed that just about everyone had jumped ship in favor of a little R&R. She had to wait 20 minutes for a transporter to ship the pallet of samples out because of the exodus. 

She stopped in the corridor at a random intercom, checked to be sure no one was near enough to question her and asked the computer. "Computer, what is the location of First Officer Spock?" 

"First Officer Spock is not on-board Enterprise." 

She stepped away. So that was it. He had left. She couldn't even begin to guess where he might have gone, they hadn't had a chance to discuss the week. She walked sullenly to her quarters, berating herself the whole way. Why had she lost her temper like that? She couldn't remember ever throwing something in anger. It was so...childish. It was no wonder he didn't want to subject himself to is. She still believed she had done the correct thing. She wished she knew where he was so she could talk some sense into him. 

Her quarters seemed unusually quiet, empty. She knew it was just Spock's absence, but it was depressing. 

To her surprise the wall where the coffee cup had broken was clean. She stopped, looking around for her bag. It was gone. Her heart skipped a beat. Maybe.... 

There was a piece of paper on the foot of her bed, a note from Spock. It didn't say much. Only the name of a hotel on the station and a room number. 

She smiled, but didn't quite feel relieved. He had something planned, that much was certain. She just hoped she would be able to talk to him. There was so much they needed to talk about. 

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Christine tried to calm her nerves. There was really nothing to feel nervous about, this was Spock. 

She keyed the door. Spock's voice came from the intercom "Come." Spock was inside. She stepped into the hotel room, heard the door close behind her. Spock came into the main room, from what she supposed was the bedroom. Her eyes widened in shock. He was naked. 

'Hm, well then. So, he wasn't angry.' 

He stopped in the center of the room. 

"Please remove your clothing." He said matter-of-factly. 

She shook her head slightly in shock at his unexpected opening. He was so calm she was sure she had misunderstood. 

"What?" 

He inclined his head, raised his eyebrows and clasped his hands behind his back in a most First Officer like fashion. If he hadn't been nude she would have thought he was giving her an order. "Remove all of your clothing." He repeated, slower but still evenly. 

She smiled wickedly at him. She believed she understood. She slowly unbuttoned her shirt, seductively let it slip from her shoulders to the floor. 

He moved then, coming toward her slowly. He reached to the floor and retrieved the shirt nonchalantly. He folded it neatly and waited patiently for the next piece of discarded clothing, carefully staying out of arms reach at all times. She had no idea how very difficult it was for him to remain so impassive. Indeed, as she finally slid the soft pink panties off, making sure to bend slowly at the waist, she became quite annoyed as she realized he did not appear to be the least bit effected by her coy striptease. 

He turned to the bedroom and placed the clothing in a neat stack on the dresser. He swallowed hard, steeling himself. Control, he thought. I must have control. 

When he came back into the main living area, Christine stood bemused, hands on hips awaiting an explanation. 

He gestured easily to one of the chairs taking one opposite it. "Shall we continue our discussion?" 

She laughed at the absurdity of his seeming non-sequitur. 

"You want to talk? Now?" 

"I believe there is much we need to discuss, Christine. Do you not concur?" 

"Well, yes. But...I just thought..." She sighed heavily, then plopped gracelessly in the proffered chair. 

He raised one eyebrow questioningly. 

She smiled wryly. "You're right. Let's talk. Spock I understand your feelings about my discussing your condition with your mother, but I hope you can understand why I did it. I am your doctor. My feelings can't play into it. I had no other expert who could consult with me. You know how closed mouthed Vulcans can be about such private matters." 

Spock nodded his head in agreement. "Such things are not discussed without worlders." 

"Exactly! What was I supposed to do?" She raised a hand cutting off any protest he might offer. She rose from her chair, feeling the frustration from earlier in the day return. "Spock, you of all people should understand that I couldn't do that. I couldn't just leave like that. You yourself wouldn't leave the bridge when your own father was ill. I am a doctor, and while Dr. McCoy was sick I was in charge." 

He again nodded his head in agreement, "You are quite correct." 

She turned to face him, hands on hips. "So, what are you saying?" 

He raised both eyebrows, spoke evenly "I was in error. I ask forgiveness. Your reasoning was logical and your motives sound." 

She blinked in disbelief. He had seemed so angry earlier. Or had he? She couldn't really remember. All she really remembered was how angry she had been. She moved back to him, sat in the chair and took his hands. "No Spock, I'm sorry. I never should have lost my temper like that. I don't know what came over me. I've never thrown something in anger like that." 

He raised a hand to her cheek his eyes were soft. "Perhaps there is something else which we should discuss." She looked away. 

He bent to catch her glance, "Christine? You are troubled. Tell me what has been troubling you for so long." 

She searched for the words. It was difficult to gather her thoughts and feelings. She covered his hand with her own, pulled it from her cheek and kissed it gently. "It's so hard. I don't know if I can explain it. Oh Spock, I love you so much. I've waited so long to be with you and now that we're together like this I keep thinking....about the future." 

"You are uncertain what the future holds for us? Is that what troubles you?" 

She held his gaze, "I'll be honest, I panicked when you started showing Pon Farr symptoms. All I could think of was that it was so fast. I want this to be something we decide together, with clear heads. I don't want to just be the logical choice at the time. I want to talk about it. I want to know what I'm getting myself into. I mean I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I have a career now. I enjoy serving in Starfleet and want to continue for some time. I'm not ready to give that up. Not like that, not because we have to. Can you understand that?" She desperately hoped he wouldn't be hurt by her honesty. 

"I understand." He looked down at their clasped hands. "I regret that I have not better communicated my intentions." He lifted her chin with gentle fingertips. "Christine, I do not expect that our relationship should preclude our careers. Indeed, I find it quite satisfying to serve with you. Do you believe that I am speaking with a 'clear head'?" she nodded slightly, he went on "You are the logical choice for me Christine because I desire no one else. Nor shall I ever wish it any differently." 

"Spock, your mother said that she believed that you needed to be bonded to a human to experience the symptoms that you had." 

"Indeed." 

"Are we...bonded Spock?" 

"Not precisely. I suspect our frequent melds." His ears colored at this, "have created a resonance similar to a bond. That may be why I have had such a strong...response to you." 

There was an awkward silence. Spock searched her eyes. "Do you wish to bond with me Christine?" His own eyes belied his own eager hope. 

"Do you?" Her heart raced, she felt flushed. Not an answer, not a rejection. She was suddenly afraid again. 

He responded with a whisper, barely able to contain the feeling of joy he felt rising up, "There is a traditional ceremony, but it is not necessary. Such things are private. If we wish it we may bond at any time. Unless you would prefer a traditional Terran ceremony?" 

"Are you asking me to marry you?" she pretended to be surprised. 

"I believe that is what I said, Christine." He feigned exasperation. 

She smiled widely, "Oh, I don't know. Would I get to have a nice hot sandy ceremony with lots of Vulcan symbolism and stoic tradition?" 

"If that is what you wish." His eyes glinted with humor. 

She steeled herself. She suddenly thought to herself that she was too old to feel these nervous bride feelings. 'Just do it, Chris!' 

"Yes." 

He allowed himself a small sigh of relief. She leaned forward and kissed. Then she leaned back, her expression was suddenly sober, "Spock, I know how important your heritage is to you, I would be honored if we could have a traditional Vulcan ceremony. Not to mention the fact that it would probably be better received by everyone." 

"A wise insight. If we are to follow tradition, we should then become betrothed. Do you wish it?" 

"I don't know what do I have to do?" She wasn't sure she wanted to do battle or cross the sands of the desert today. 

"It is not complicated, a simple meld, a betrothal bond. It is more than an engagement, but less than a marriage." 

"Yes, Spock. I think that would be wonderful." 

"Very well then, let us begin." He almost smiled at that and suddenly rose scooping her up into his arms unceremoniously. He headed to the bedroom. 

She laughed at his spontaneity, kissed him with abandon. He placed her gently on the bed. 

"Spock I have one more question." 

"Yes, Christine." 

"Why are we naked? I'm not complaining, but I don't understand." 

"I was at a loss, this afternoon as to what to do. I consulted my own expert on Vulcan - Human relationships." 

"You talked to your mother about this?" 

"She suggested that we disrobe before we continued our discussion." 

"Did she think it would diffuse the argument?" 

"Not precisely, she believed it would save time." Before she could fully absorb what he had said he kissed her, effectively stifling her laughter. After a long time, he gathered himself and pulled himself away from her delicious mouth. She was so beautiful to him. He brushed the hair from her face and tenderly kissed her forehead, memorizing her this way. 

Then he placed his hands on her face. She nodded ever so slightly giving her consent. He closed his eyes and reached... 

Christine.

Oh, Spock. Do you know how much I love you? 

A warm wave swept through him. Yes, Beloved, and I you.

She basked in the warmth of the gentle touch of his mind. For a long time, they held one another in the joy of their love, their thoughts only on the joy of this moment. 

Then he shifted his touch slightly. 

She felt the touch deepen and broaden in ways she could not comprehend. It was happening so quickly it took her breath away. It was an impossibly wonderful and intimate touch. She struggled with it trying to grasp it, trying to find words to define it. It was so foreign to her, it was almost painful in its depth. She felt something like falling and fought panic. She felt as if she were losing herself. A small cry escaped her lips. She trembled under his touch. Parts of her mind she had never know she felt suddenly felt different as he slipped into her being, touching, weaving, bonding their very beings together. It was overwhelming. 

Sshh, Christine, it's all right. There is nothing to fear. I will go no further. It is done. 

She could only gasp. 

The feeling of his thoughts, here so deep in her mind was staggering. She tried to find words to describe it, but could not. It was unlike anything in her experience. The beauty of this bond was awesome. She knew now that she would never be the same. Knew they would never be alone again. 

Oh, Spock. I never imagined it could be like this. The thought came unbidden from her heart and suddenly she let go. She let go of the fear and abandoned herself to the sensations, the colors, the flashes of memories he opened up to her. She yielded her own memories and was warmed beyond measure by the sharing. 

She felt the tears on her face, heard his voice whispering softly, echoing to the depth of her soul "Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched." 

It was done. 

Slowly he withdrew from her mind, leaving behind a link, an unmistakable bond. When finally she opened her eyes, she was so overcome with joy that it spilled over as tears, which he hastily kissed away. 

"Are you all right?" He sounded a bit unsteady himself. 

"Yes," she drew in a deep shuddered breath, "You?" 

"I feel...I feel wonderful." His own eyes sparkled with joy. 

"Will it always be this...intense?" Her eyes wide, she couldn't tear her eyes from his. It was difficult to speak and hear the music of his thoughts at the same time. 

His answer was tinged with regret, "No, but it will always be here, and when the time come, it will be the foundation of our bonding." He allowed a small smile at her as her eyes widened even more in disbelief. It did not seem possible that there could be more. 

"It can be quite, unsettling in the beginning. But there are techniques I will teach you that will help you manage. In time it will be easier to control." He closed his eyes, concentrating. She felt the link thin, felt him close himself off from her. 

She closed her eyes against the unsettling feeling of vertigo his sudden absence caused. It hurt in a way, like her skin was sun burnt on the inside she was very aware of the edges of her being – stingingly empty inside herself.

"No!" she gasped. "Please, not yet." 

He opened the link slowly, the warmth spread once again. It was amazing that something that had only a few moments ago felt so foreign now suddenly felt comforting and right. 

She sighed. How had she ever gotten along without this? More importantly what was it that she had ever doubted about it? She had not lost herself as she feared but found that she was more with him.

Suddenly she cocked an eyebrow at him in a most un Vulcan fashion and grabbed him pulling him into a passionate kiss. She concentrated and with surprising skill sent a thought to him through the newly formed connection. 

Alright mister enough talking. Make love to me!

She felt the rumble in his chest, a surprised laugh that had skirted his Vulcan control. 

He promptly and with great abandon complied with her request. 

\-- 

Spock and Christine arrived at the transport site at the end of their blissful leave with only a twinge of regret that it was over. There would be other times to spend together - wonderful, joyful time to get to know each other better. Time for plans, time enough for their future together. 

They entered the transporter room and found the command crew there, waiting their turn to beam over to the Enterprise. 

Within seconds, Uhura had pulled her friend aside and began filling her in on the details of the camping trip. Dr. McCoy had convinced her that it would be a lot of fun, but from what Christine gathered it hadn't quite turned out the way it had been planned. Between the rain and the local nocturnal wildlife, no one had had much rest. The worst of it was the fact that there had not been a return shuttle until this morning! 

Dr. McCoy and the Captain pulled Spock aside as well. The Captain, in hushed tones, quickly filled his friends in on the local entertainment, finishing his tale with loud laughter and mutual back thumping between him and the Doctor. Spock, for his part, listened intently, but did not offer comment. 

Finally, the transporter technician signaled that they should ascend the platform. They each took position and waited patiently. A moment before the transporter beam engaged Uhura broke the relative quiet. 

"So, Chris, what did you do?" she looked questioningly at her friend. 

Before Christine could respond the transporter engaged and the 5 were sent to Enterprise. 

The instant the beam disengaged Spock stepped off the platform. Christine experienced a brief moment of panic. He had certainly heard Uhura's question. Surely he wouldn't leave her there. 

What should she say? 

She wanted to tell her friend what had happened, but never thought she'd be in the position to tell everyone, all at once. Surely Spock would want to tell them in his own time. 

Spock stopped at the foot of the platform, turned deliberately to face her and extended his hand. 

Everyone in the room froze. 

Christine swallowed, felt a mad blush color her cheeks. She did not look to her friend, but reached out to Spock and took his hand. 

He casually reached for and took her overnight case. He did not release her hand but escorted her to the door. Before the door closed he spoke. 

"If you have not tired of my company, Christine, would you join me in my quarters for dinner?" 

The doors to the corridor closed and the transporter room exploded with conversation.


End file.
